In the Middle Was the Word
It’s pretty clear to me that the books listed in my sidebar cannot compete with the siren song of my newfound love. Knitting and I are united. What is this thing, knitting? My hands. Yes, my hands. By manipulating yarn in loops around bamboo sticks and guiding progress with my fingers, stitch after stitch and row upon row accumulate. Something substantial emerges. I’m fascinated. I’m also getting tired and making mistakes. The bright side to that is that I’m beginning to understand the stitches and see how to correct mistakes. Fine, but I need a break. Yet the books in queue — at least, the ones that aren’t novels — don’t draw me. So it’s time to put Beyond the Writers’ Workshop: New Ways to Write Creative Nonfiction, The Art of the Personal Essay: An Anthology from the Classical Era to the Present, and Soul Collage: An Intuitive Collage Process for Individuals and Groups back in the bookcase for another day. Time to sink into some fiction and give the brain a rest from creating new neural pathways.
Fortunately I acquired several books recently based on reader recommendations. I haven’t given The Master Butcher’s Singing Club a fair shake, so I’ll try again. Along with The Boys of My Youth, Miriam’s Kitchen, and Family Matters.
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October 11th, 2005 at 3:59 am
eek! I may have oversold Master Butcher. It is set in North Dakota, in fact the setting is strong enough to be equal to a character, and I have a weird sort of fixation on that state. Sorry about that. *grimace*
October 11th, 2005 at 4:19 am
I really didn’t give it a fair shake. I set it by the bed — and any book in that location is bound to be given short shrift. Then I got sucked into yarn and have barely come out. I’d heard the author interview on NPR and it sounded intriguing. So I may yet love it — just need to give it a chance.
October 14th, 2005 at 2:52 am
I can relate. I discovered crochet in January, and many things have taken back seat to hands, yarn, and needle.